The Jaguar Star (Tales of the Were: Jaguar Island Book 4), Bianca D'Arc [pdf e book reader .txt] 📗

to be working, but she wanted to. She wanted to let the sound of his voice wash over her. She wanted to drink in the rich tones that felt like a caress. So much better in person than they were in recording.

Like a living purr. A low-thrumming growl when he was displeased. A full-throated yowl when he was fighting and a seductive rumble when he was calm. Damn. Just the man’s voice touched places deep down inside her that she had been barely aware of until now.

She’d gotten tongue-tied on meeting him. So much so that she’d forgotten her newly shortened name. It was Kat now. Kat Valiant was her new stage name. Shortened by her agent, Mel, to be more commercial. She’d gotten a shiny new union card with that name on it, gained through some arcane means on a less-said-the-better basis, and a fully executed contract. Katrina had shown up at the designated place in Virginia at the designated time and found the director, Sonia, already there.

Before the reading, Sonia had introduced her to Francesca, the makeup artist, who was simply stunning. Katrina felt short and plain next to the tall, auburn-haired beauty. Francesca wore her makeup expertly, which Katrina supposed was only to be expected. Still, she had to have some amazing bone structure beneath the paint to pull off such a sophisticated look. Katrina had wondered why Francesca wasn’t an actress or model. She definitely had the looks for it.

Sonia had also introduced Deidre, the sound engineer, who was another stunner, tall and graceful. She had smiled almost shyly at Katrina and put her at ease.

“You have a nice voice,” Deidre had told her in a quiet, gentle tone. “I’ll make sure you sound your best,” she had promised with an encouraging smile, which had set Katrina at ease. The people were nice and so far, they’d been incredibly welcoming.

There was a behemoth of a man named Clive Rojas, who was playing the role of Little John, who had been friendly and kind. Dennis Portnoy was another of the actors, who was playing the part of Friar Tuck. He was older, but no less handsome or fit. He’d have to wear padding to play the part of the portly friar. The others were no less striking. Every single member of the cast present at the reading was one of the beautiful people. She guessed she shouldn’t be too surprised. They were all actors, after all.

Still, Katrina couldn’t help but feel a bit plain next to all the tall and incredibly good-looking people in this room. She wondered why in the world she’d been cast as Maid Marian with women who looked like these readily available. Average height at five-foot-five, Katrina felt tiny around all the six-footers. Each had remarkable looks—lustrous dark hair or shiny blonde or red. Nobody had mousey brown, except Katrina. And nobody had plain brown eyes, except Katrina, either.

Were they all wearing contacts? She thought that was a bit extreme, though she supposed almost all of them had augmented their hair color in some way. The men were just handsome and fit, and the women wore their clothes and makeup to perfection. It was a skill Katrina had tried to gain, and she thought she did well enough, but compared to these beauties, she felt like a shadow.

Still. She was playing Maid Marian. There had to be a reason Sonia had chosen her. Katrina tried to find her confidence in that.

But it was hard to keep the confidence going when she looked over at her leading man, Rendall Smith. Katrina sincerely hoped she didn’t make a ninny out of herself during this production. She wanted so much to play it cool, but she wasn’t sure she could contain her enthusiasm.

She’d heard Ren could be a bit of a cold customer where fans were concerned. Katrina wasn’t sure if that coolness would extend to his fellow actors, but he was the biggest name on this project. He could behave any way he wanted, and it would probably go unremarked.

She just hoped he remained friendly. Or, at least, not cold. She didn’t expect to be the man’s best friend, but it would help her acting if he was at least comfortable to be around. Especially when, later in the script, she’d have to kiss him.

Her toes tingled just thinking about it. She was getting paid to snog Rendall Smith!

One of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. His hair was dark and straight. He’d worn it all different ways in different movies and it always looked good because he had a symmetrical face with a strong jaw, straight nose, chiseled cheekbones the cameras loved, and those mysterious green eyes that were almost unearthly. She suspected he’d have longer hair for this role and she couldn’t wait to see it. Maybe she’d even get a chance to run her fingers through his hair in the more intimate scenes. Now wasn’t that something to think about!

How in the world was she going to act alongside him, knowing what was coming later in the script? How would she be able to keep her very real attraction under wraps? She’d die of embarrassment if he ever figured out just how much of a crush she still had on him. She hadn’t even realized it herself. Not until now. Sitting next to him in a room full of professional actors.

She it felt like such a fraud. She wasn’t a professional. She’d barely been an amateur when she gave up acting in order to pay the bills. She’d put away her dreams and taken the job her parents had offered. The job they had mapped out for her—along with the rest of her life.

In her parents’ minds, she would work at the trattoria and find a nice young man, at some point. Preferably someone who liked Italian food and had some sort of skill that might come in handy for the restaurant. An accountant would work. He could help them keep